


settle

by simplyclockwork



Series: natural progression [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Ficlet, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, POV Sherlock Holmes, Series, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-25 02:23:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21348694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyclockwork/pseuds/simplyclockwork
Summary: "we are sitting on your bedroom floor;our hands are touching and weboth pretend not to notice"
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: natural progression [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538974
Comments: 12
Kudos: 81





	settle

**Author's Note:**

> Ficlet 3 in a series of short fics I'm planning to write based on posts from the tumblr account affectionatesuggestion
> 
> The series will follow a progression into an established Johnlock relationship

On a day when Sherlock tears his hair with furious hands, brain racing away beneath his skull like a runaway train, there’s not a single case to distract himself from self-imploding.

He snaps at John and kicks the coffee table. He tries to shoot the wall, but John wrestles the gun from him and hides it somewhere in the flat.

He itches for a cigarette; for a hit of heroin; for silence in his head.

When he finally crashes into his bedroom, slumping to the floor beside the bed, it is with an angry snarl at John, who stands in the door and looks both helpless and entirely fed up.

“Sherlock,” he calls, the detective ignoring him in favour of digging his nails deep into his arms. John steps into the room; catches Sherlock’s hands and draws them away from his own skin. “Sherlock.” He says again, voice firm and commanding—the voice Sherlock knows as John pulling rank; the voice that means _listen to me, right now._

He stops self-destructing long enough to look into the face of his friend, and what he sees there is a heavy concern; a helpless solidarity behind solid, blue eyes.

“John.” Sherlock says, and he finds himself focusing on the unmoveable force before him.

“There you go.” John replies, smiling as Sherlock’s eyes lose their wild light. “That was quite an episode.”

_Episode_. Their name for the times when Sherlock feels like he’s flying apart; when his racing mind moves beyond his control and he plunges into a mad scramble for something, _anything_, to occupy his intensified focus.

Sherlock sighs; sinks until his back hits the bedframe. His long legs stretching out, he leans and relaxes; listens as his brain quiets with a low buzzing noise. John, hesitant at first, settles beside him, sinking down from his kneeling position with a soft groan as his knees creak.

“I’m getting too old to sit on the floor.” John grumbles, but sit on the floor he does, stretching his legs out beside Sherlock’s, their feet inches apart. Sherlock wiggles his foot; bumps John’s with it and the other man snorts.

They sit in companionable silence among the sounds of the old flat settling. Their hands, resting on the cold wood floor between them, brush with the faintest of contact. They sit together and pretend not to notice, lest the moment end too soon, and listen to each other’s breathing.


End file.
